


Protectorate

by shadowolfhunter



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 01:26:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3271652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowolfhunter/pseuds/shadowolfhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who's protecting who?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protectorate

By the time he was 18, and had entered the police academy with the highest test scores ever achieved by a cadet just two weeks after his eighteenth birthday, Sean Renard had been on his own for three years. He was tough, resourceful and intelligent, a survivor. Loneliness, like every other problem he’d ever faced had just been an obstacle to overcome.

He’d gone on to be a rising star through the academy, passed out with more of the highest scores they had ever seen, had his pick of placings and chosen Portland as a place to settle. Right from the start he’d let it be known that Portland was safe for wesen as long as they abided by the rules.

Then Marie Kessler and her nephew, and the deal, and the most powerful Grimm to emerge for more than two centuries. The Grimm that was his.

Sean could only surmise that he had become a little too comfortable with his position. Since he and Nick had come together, both as Captain and Detective, and then finally Sean had taken Nick to his bed, things were in balance.

None of which was going to help his current situation.

Renard was a powerful wesen, Royalty even if a bastard scion, but freeing himself from the iron shackles that held his wrists high above his head, his toes barely brushing the floor, was impossible. He’d tried.

Renard was tall, six foot four, to be dangling from his wrists by a fairly long chain meant the ceiling above his head was probably getting on for twenty feet, he thought it was very likely a warehouse. He tried to ignore the pain from his brutally crushed wrists, which was arrowing down his stretched arms, through his already painful elbow and shoulder joints bearing his full weight.

The pain in his arms was the least of his problems.

The wound in his flank was through and through, just a tear in the meat of his side, miserable and uncomfortable and it would slow him up but it had hit nothing vital, the left leg was the real problem. Even if he somehow managed to free the chain he was dangling from, he knew his leg was a mess. Three wounds, one clear through his thigh, again, the meat, just muscle damage not an artery, but bullets two and three had clipped bone, just above his knee, and the knee itself. Dropping to his feet was going to be excruciating. Actually walking out of this, damn near impossible.

He closed his eyes, clamped down on the pain, and tried to come up with a plan to get himself out of this.

The working theory he had was that his brother had decided to take the Grimm for himself, if Sean disappeared that was fine, but since the King, Eric’s father was rather inconveniently (from Eric’s point of view) apparently fond of his bastard sons, not that Sean had ever seen any evidence of that; Eric killing his younger half-brother would not go down well.

All Sean had to do was figure out how to get down. He’d been hanging there for a while now, and it was getting hard to think.

He must have lost consciousness, because next thing he knew, the door had been opened, and Eric was being thrown through it.

“Get him down.” Growled a voice so thick with menace that Sean actually flinched a little. He had never heard his Grimm so angry, his eyes met Nick’s.

He could see the fury, and the worry and love. Sean felt warmed by the love.

The subsequent events were perhaps a little hazy. Sean was freed from the shackles, and lifted down very carefully, the next thing he was absolutely certain of was being held close to his Grimm.

“I’ve got you, Sean… you’re safe.” The warmth and love in his Nick’s voice assured Sean he could let go.

::grimm::

Sean woke on fifth day in his own bed, Nick beside him. The younger man anxiously checked over Sean’s dressings, and the supportive pillows under Sean’s leg.

Nick kissing Sean’s forehead gently was something of a surprise, as his lover announced that he was getting breakfast, but Sean let it slide, preferring to take stock of his body himself. His wrists were sore, and bandaged with soft open weave dressings with some kind of salve on, presumably for the bruises, he didn’t check, his shoulders and elbows were stiff, but that was to be expected, his side was also sore, but less so than he would have thought, two sizeable but ordinary dressings, front and back, nothing unmanageable. He had the advantage of healing quickly.

His leg, not so good, thigh heavily bandaged, and he could sense the stitches under the dressing. It was his knee that really bothered him, some kind of thick supportive wrap just above the knee, Sean could feel metal beneath the wrappings, there was some sort of elaborate contraption beneath the softer bandages below the supportive wrapping, which ended with another wrap several inches below his knee. The whole thing nestled in at least four pillows which were preventing him moving in bed. Here the damage was much worse, and he realized that even quick healing was still going to be a matter of weeks.

For a moment, Sean pondered the nature of his current state of immobility, eyeing the crutches leaning against the wall beside the bed somewhat warily, and considered the chances of him making it to the bathroom unaided. Pride warred with reality. Finally, reality sucker-punched him. Without Nick he wasn’t getting to his feet any time soon.

“Nick.” 

“Yeah.” His lover appeared in the doorway.

Feeling suddenly unable to express himself in words, Sean flushed, and waved a hand in a vague indication of need. Thankfully, his Grimm also blushed, and set about helping Sean limp to the bathroom with the aid of the crutches.

Breakfast was Nick’s version of scrambled eggs, which was a source of teasing for Sean, his Grimm’s culinary skills being less than perfect. They could relax sharing the moment, and Sean felt the sense of well-being and protection sweep over him.

He wasn’t used to being protected, it was a new and not unpleasant feeling.

Nick removed the tray, “I’m going in to work for a while, Monroe and Rosalee will be here soon, and they’ll take care of you until I can get back.”

Sean frowned a little. “I’ll be fine. There’s no need.” A look crossed his Grimm’s face, something very like fear.

“Please.” The request was very quiet, and Sean gave in, this was a thing between them. The bond was strong, and he wasn’t alone in this any more. That was taking some getting used to, and if the price of making Nick happy was accepting help from the Blutbad and his Fuchsbau mate… Sean nodded.

“Okay.”

The blindingly beautiful smile on Nick’s face was worth it. His privacy and dignity were worth a lot to him, but that smile. That was priceless.

He must have slept again, and woke uncomfortable and feeling strange. Gentle long-fingered hands smoothed across his brow, someone was supporting him from behind, held his head up, and a voice said “drink this,” he recognized the voice though he couldn’t really put a name to it, he drank the tea being held to his lips, and then he was helped to lie back against his pillows.

He woke a couple of hours later feeling a little less queasy, a delicious aroma was issuing from the kitchen, and suddenly he felt hungry.

Lunch consisted of Monroe’s butternut squash soup, with all the trimmings, and pie. Cherry. Courtesy of Bud’s wife, and after Sean had cleaned his plate, Bud helped him to the bathroom again.

He was too tired to question why an eisbiber was on nursemaid duty, and feeling a little overwhelmed at all the caring attention. Helped back into bed, his sore leg once again supported by all the pillows, it went through Sean’s head that he had never had this much attention even as a child.

He had a moment to feel thoroughly pathetic when the medication that Monroe had handed to him with his lunch finally caught up to him and he fell asleep again.

It was a whispered conversation that woke him again. It was dark outside, and Nick was standing by the bed talking to a pretty young maushertz who Sean vaguely remembered taking his pulse and temperature, but couldn’t be sure when.

“Nick.” He muttered sleepily, pleased to see his lover.

Up until the day Nick Burkhardt had woken up in the arms of his Captain, he would have considered himself a fairly lonely person. Even in the throes of love with his Juliette, something always held Nick back.

Until Sean Renard.

It hadn’t taken Nick long to put it together. In a lot of ways Sean Renard was just like himself.

Nick didn’t agree with everything that Sean did, but he recognized that every decision was taken with care, and not taken lightly. Sometimes the things that Sean did came from a place of pain buried deep in Sean’s past.

Sometimes the things that Sean did or decided healed something distant and damaged in Nick. It made the young Grimm long to heal some of Sean’s pain.

He knew his lover well enough to know that Sean was confused by the attention he was receiving from wesen he would normally count as Nick’s friends. It had confused Nick a little too, until Monroe and Frank spelled it out.

Nick was important to them, as a Grimm who was just and fair, Sean Renard was their Guardian. Nick and Sean were vital to the continued peace of Portland.

According to Rosalee, it was a no brainer.

Protecting what they had, was so much better than taking the chance on things being far worse under some strange Royal with an agenda of brutality.

Nick was a friend, and by extension, so was Sean. According to Bud, who seemed to have gotten over his desire to flinch every time Sean’s regnant status was mentioned.

It was late, Nick helped his injured lover to the bathroom again, he couldn’t help feeling just a little grateful that Sean had yet to see the living room. If the ice age were to come to Portland, they were surely prepared with blankets and rugs and several beautiful hand-knitted throws, and there was enough food to feed a small army for several months.

Portland was a protectorate under a Guardian, but sometimes Nick wondered who was protecting who.


End file.
